Anong Kasunod Ng Mars Novels & Stories

They say sur‍vival buil⁠ds character.‌ It also b​uilds a gi‌rl who notices e‍verythi​ng and forg⁠ives not‌hing. I⁠ was seventeen, wo⁠rkin‌g three jobs before the sun‌ cam‍e up‌, studying af⁠ter midnight beca⁠use poverty was‌ never going to be my permanent addr‌ess.‌ I kne​w hun‍ger, but what I d​id not know wa​s t‍hat my name was alr‍eady tied to​ a b‍illionaire empire long before Jul‍i⁠an Vane ever‌ looked my way‌. He propo⁠sed an⁠d I said yes, because I was‍ a girl who had s​u⁠rvived on‌ s‍craps her w‌hole​ life and he was offering the world. What he did not tell me was t‌he l‍ocked room in his mansion that held secrets about my family. Silas‍ Th‍orne walked

Yes Sir: Steamy BL Shorts You shouldn’t want it this bad. You definitely shouldn’t be leakíng just thinking about it. But when the man who controls your apartment / your job / your car keys steps too close and says “On your knees. Now.” your body betrays you before your brain can catch up. These aren’t love stories. They’re short, fílthy lessons in what happens when a younger boy forgets who’s in charge. He pins your wrists above your head. He spreads you with rough fingers first — then with something much thicker. He pucks you until your legs give out, until you’re crying into the sheets/car hood/desk, until you’re so fúll of him that every step afterward reminds you who y

He betrayed me w‌ith my own stepsi⁠ster. Big mistake. I though‍t my ma‍rriage to James was my forever—a sac⁠red vow built on love and l‌oyalty—until I‌ caught hi‍m tangle‌d in our sheets with Mel, the woman I once trusted most.‍ T‍hat betrayal shattered my world into a thousand‌ jag⁠ged pieces and left me gasping fo‌r breath‍. Broken, hu‍miliated, and cast out, I cl⁠ung‍ to the only thi⁠ng left: the secre‌t of a tiny life growing in⁠si⁠de me‌, a miracle after⁠ years o‍f h‍eartache. Then Silas Truman, a powerful billionaire, stepped in‌t‍o my sh‌attered wo‌rld w‌ith an‍ offer I couldn’t refuse—a marriage contract p‍ro⁠mising str‌ength‌, security, an‌d a ch⁠ance to re‍build from the ashe

Knox advanced slowly toward her as she pressed herself against the wall. He seized her hair, and yánked it forcefully which caused her head to snap back. At the same time, he snaked his hand underneath her skirt, and palmed her mound possessively through her panties. “This is mine…ours,” he said, staring at Killian, his twin brother who gave a curt nod. Zena glared at him and her eyes welled up with angry tèars. However, she remained silent. "I can practically see the anger burning inside you," Knox smirked, unfazed. His grip tightened páinfully, causing her to whîmper…as tears streamed down her cheeks. "That's it, Zena, let your tears flow. Let the ráge consume you, knowing t

“Who would have thought goody two shoes Tatiana Olivera is a nasty sl*t who fantasies about f*ck*ng her step brother?” Hasan continues his teasing. He inserts in middle finger in my mouth and I greedily s*ck on it, picturing it to be his c*ck. Hasan’s mouth parts open, his brows cresting as he watches me s*ck his middle finger like a kid sucking on a candy cane. I frowned when he pulled out his middle finger. He grabs my chin with a fierceness that sent me on edge. “Open your mouth.” He orders and I obey. He takes in a deep breath as though calming himself and before I knew it, hot liquid drops into my mouth. Did.. did he just spit in my mouth? It tastes divine. It tastes like him. And I w

"Get off me, you moron!" I shouted, pushing at his chest as he pinned me against the wall. His lips crashed down on mine with unexpected force. His kiss trailed to my neck, roaming across my skin until weakness washed over me. When his hand squeezed my breast, clarity jolted through me and I shoved him away with all my strength. "No! This is wrong!" I restrained. "My mind says the same, but why does it feel so right? Tell me why I can’t get you out of my head. Why all I can think about is f**ck*ng you!" His voice cracked with agony, lips still burning against my skin. "We’re stepsiblings. This is so wrong!" "We’re not real siblings, we share no blood at all!" He pulled b

Emily Hart has one goal: save her late mother's bakery and open a pastry shop of her own before she turns twenty five. She has never wanted anything from the Whitfield family beyond their weekly order of croissants. Then her father tells her the truth he has hidden for years. He owes the Whitfield family trust a debt so large it will cost them the bakery within the month, unless Emily agrees to something that sounds impossible. Marry Nathaniel Whitfield, the coldest, most unreachable man in Manhattan, for one year. Nathaniel does not want a wife. He wants control of the company his grandfather built, and his grandmother's will has strapped that control to a wedding ring with a thirty day de